Starcrossed - Kamijirou
by kixotical
Summary: When Denki moves into the city of Musutafu, the first thing he notices is the girl singing in the field behind his house. He doesn't know who she is, but that night, he goes out into the field to meet her. Little did he know that she had lung cancer, knew of his playboy nature, and wanted nothing to do with him. Little did she know that fate has a funny way of working out...
1. Chapter I

**Warning: This story contains heavy themes such as domestic abuse, suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, and depression. There will be a warning before each chapter containing these themes (this prologue isn't one of them) and a chapter summary at the bottom, but I just wanted to make that known.  
Also, I reposted this chapter because I added quite a bit to it; the first time I felt like it was too short.**

* * *

 **Chapter I**

* * *

Some summer nights are just too beautiful for you to miss.

Sure, there will be some nights when the air is so swelteringly hot that it smothers you like an unforgiving blanket and causes sweat to pour out of your pores, making you want to go right back inside and grab a popsicle. Sometimes, there will be nights when swarms of mosquitos fill the air, attacking any unsuspecting victim they come across and forcing you to go inside early do to the red bumps blossoming on your skin.

No night is perfect; nothing is perfect. Denki had learned that a long time ago. But this night came just about close.

Sticking his head out of the second-story window, Denki allowed a small grin to cross his face as a cool night breeze blew his hair, the black zig-zag rippling like a soundwave. The soft chirping of crickets rippled through the night air, carrying their sweet melody to any ears lucky enough to hear it as the dark shadow of a small owl passed over the grass.

"Denki, sweetie? Have you started unpacking?" A tired voice yelled from downstairs, startling Denki out of his thoughts.

"Yeah mom, I just started," Denki lied, gripping the windowsill tighter as he allowed himself to perch on the brown cardboard box, unopened beneath him. For a moment, he allowed himself to pretend the box wasn't there, that his room wasn't filled with boxes. Unopened boxes, all staring at him intently, daring him to open them.

He knew he would have to open them at some point. He couldn't just leave a bunch of packed boxes in his "room"—he wasn't quite sure what counted as a room these days. His room back in Saitama Prefecture could hardly be called a room. He had grown to hate that place so much that some nights he would just sleep under the ironing board in the hallway instead of his own bed.

For a moment, Denki cringed slightly at the memory, screaming and crying flashing in his thoughts, if only briefly. A few seconds could say a thousand words if it was the right memory, and Denki wasn't willing to let it even get in one. Quickly pushing the thought out of his mind, Denki released a sigh, Denki gazed around his new "room", biting on the inside of his cheek.

Ugly dark green walls stared out at him, which Denki was already planning on painting a pale gold with a black accent wall the second he laid his eyes on it. It was bigger than his old room, with a large white framed window with glass panes that he could easily open, no problem. As soon as he stepped into his new room, he hadn't hesitated to open the windows and poke his head out for a breath of fresh air.

Denki smiled again. There was no such thing as a perfect night, but this came close.

"Denki, I thought you said you started packing!" A small voice suddenly said, and Denki cringed, the enjoyment he had felt with his head out the window instantly broken as he was yanked back to reality. Silently, Denki cursed himself for not locking the door as he turned around to face a little girl standing in the doorway.

"Aishun, please keep a little quieter," Denki said urgently as he turned around, lowering his voice to a whisper and putting his finger in front of his lips. He perked his ears, listening for his mother's angry shout at him not unpacking yet, but fortunately, there was none.

Still, Aishun Kaminari's gaze swept over the room, taking in all the untouched boxes stacked on top of one another like building blocks. As she understood what was happening, she glared at Denki, the ten-year-old standing with one eyebrow cocked and her arms crossed. "Mom said—"

"Yeah yeah, I know what mom said," Denki said, waving one hand dismissively. Sighing, he rubbed his temples. As much as he loved his sister, sometimes she could be a real pain. Even if she looked innocent enough, he knew first hand how evil she could be.

Long black hair fell from her head, straight as a stick with a bolt of yellow shooting through it and dark bangs covering her forehead. Small black wire-framed glasses sat comfortably on her face, outlining her glaring gold eyes, crackling with angry energy. However, a pair of blue pajamas with a book and the words _I'd rather be reading_ displayed on the shirt and fluffy bunny slippers seemed to make her seem more like a cute, regular ten-year-old than she actually was.

Huffing, Aishun's glare deepened as Denki cut her off. "Well, it's not fair if _I_ have to unpack my stuff the second we get home but _you_ can just sit around on a box and look out the window!" She huffed angrily.

Denki just shrugged. "Well, life isn't fair, now is it?" He said, putting his hands on Aishun's shoulders and beginning to push out the door.

"Hey!" She cried angrily, and as she did, Denki felt a small shock blast his fingertips as a there was a sudden spark of blue from where he had touched Aishun. It was tiny, not enough to cause any real damage, but just enough to hurt as much as possible without actually being dangerous.

"Ow!" He cried, suddenly yanking his hand away and shaking it wildly as he tried to numb the pain, then whipped around to glare at Aishun, his eyes flashing. "I thought mom said you couldn't do that anymore!" He exclaimed.

Aishun merely shrugged. "Well, _life isn't fair,_ is it Denki?" She said, a smirk crossing her lips. Denki stopped, holding his hand, and just shook his head. _Well played, Aishun,_ he thought.

"Well if you tell mom that I didn't unpack, I'll tell her you zapped me with your weird motion energy stuff," he said, trying to mimic the glare Aishun always gave him whenever he did something he wasn't supposed to. He had a feeling it wasn't nearly as menacing, though.

Still, it was just enough to get under Aishun's skin, which was good enough to Denki. "I told you, it's not "weird motion energy stuff", it's stored kinetic energy!" She yelled, her hands balling into fists and her glasses slipping slightly off the tip of her nose. "And anyway, I'll keep your secret about whatever weird thing you have against unpacking, but if mom tries to come into your room, I won't exactly try to stop her," she huffed, stomping out of the room and slamming the door in her wake.

It took all of Denki's self-control and then some not to rush into the ten-year-old and burn off all her clothes as the mahogany door closed with a loud _bang,_ vibrating the entire room. It wasn't that he had a weird thing against packing or anything like that; he just had a weird thing against unpacking _all of this._

Sighing, Denki felt his anger at Aishun slowly melt out of him as he gazed around the room, cardboard boxes glaring back at him as if they had eyes of their own. Each of those boxes held their own memories, some good, some bad.

By unpacking the good memories, it was like they would nothing but sad reminders of the life he had away from his house, mostly his dad, back in Saitama Prefecture. There was his whole set of vintage Batman comic books that his mom had gotten him on his twelfth birthday, all from before he was even born. There was the tiny dreamcatcher Aishun had given him when she was six before she turned into a mini-monster. There was even the collar from his first (and only) dog, Haru, a Shiba Inu breed, who had died a few years ago.

He knew it was dumb to be so upset about it; he knew there were things like world hunger and wars in some distant country going on right now. But still, he couldn't help himself from feeling just a little bit discouraged.

Releasing a sigh, Denki stuck his head out the window. He really didn't want to think like this; just focusing on the negative all the time. Closing his eyes, he tried to take in the nighttime energy, breathing in the sounds of crickets chirping, the occasional hoot of an owl, and...something else.

Suddenly, Denki's eyes flew open, startled. If he could, his ears would have perked as the sudden sound surprised him, causing him to suddenly sit up straighter on the windowsill. He could have sworn...

There. There it was. It was some sort of odd sound, like the kind of melody you hear on the radio. _Someone must be listening to music,_ he thought, squinting his eyes as he gazed out over the field. He wasn't quite sure who listened to music in a field at 11 P.M at night; in his mind, it followed the same lines of weird as hanging around an abandoned warehouse with a cigarette or in a graveyard.

If it had been somewhere like a garden or a forest, Denki would have never been able to see; but the only thing for what looked like a mile behind his neighborhood was long rows of grass. At one point they might have been used to farming; but if they had, the farmer hadn't been there in a while. The remains of what looked like vegetables or something had been eaten away by rabbits and weeds; and now all that was left was long grass and patches of dirt.

Squinting his eyes, Denki peered out from his window, looking for anything that looked out of the ordinary. He wasn't quite sure what; just anything that looked like it didn't belong in a field...there. Maybe not too far from his house, he saw what looked like a spot of dark purple, the moonlight gleaming off it and turning it a kind of paler purple-silver.

The rest of the person was hard to see, but Denki could tell they were a girl. Her silhouette was small and petite; tiny indentures of curves outlining her waist. Her legs were long and slim; the pale skin turning gray in the dim moonlight. Upon closer inspection, Denki realized that her hair was short cropped up to the base of her neck, waving slightly in the breeze.

In her arms, an odd pear-shape object was clutched, the end of it being held in her hand. _Wait, that's a guitar,_ Denki realized, noticing the hole in the center and long, stiff neck.

The girl's arm and fingers moved in rapid procession as she strummed the strings, and though he couldn't see her lips, Denki could hear her voice carrying on the wind.

 _"Load up on guns, bring your friends,"  
_ _"It's fun to lose, and to pretend,"  
_ _"She's over-bored, and self-assured,"  
_ _"Oh no, I know a dirty word,"_

As the words flowed from the girl's lips, Denki practically did a double-take. That wasn't radio music, that was _her._ He didn't recognize the song; but it sounded kind of a soft with rugged undertones; like it had some sort of dark secret. It sounded like the kind of music you hear when you're driving somewhere early in the morning; or you hear when they play at coffee shops. It was sweet, but also sad, and as the tune continued to strum, the girl continued to sing.

 _"With the lights out, it's less dangerous."  
_ _"Here we are now, entertain us."  
_ _"I feel stupid_ —ack, no that's not right," the girl suddenly said, stopping short as the music came to a sudden stop.

Pressing his lips together, Denki watched, interested as the girl reached into what looked like a jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook pad and a pencil, leaning over it and scribbling something on it.

"Hey! What are you working on?" Denki cried into the field, waving his hand in the air. For a moment, the girl's head shot up, as if she thought she had heard something, but then she scowled and turned back to her piece of paper.

 _She must not be able to hear me,_ Denki thought, leaning his head back inside the window. For a moment, he frowned, thinking of how he could get her attention. He didn't have a megaphone or anything like that, and he didn't think sending a message via paper airplane would work very well. Biting his lip, he racked his brain for ideas. _Well, you could just go over there and talk to her,_ a voice whispered in the back of his head.

Denki pulled out his phone, glancing at the time. _11:16._ It _was_ late, but then again, he didn't have any plans of going to bed any time soon. Looking up again, Denki saw the girl again, still hunched over her notepad.

"Well I mean, it couldn't hurt," he thought to himself, grabbing his jacket from around his waist and shrugging it onto his shoulders. The whole time they had been driving there, Denki's mom had been saying to try and _make_ _some new friends_ and _start over. Well mom, technically I'm doing what you said,_ Denki thought, but just in case, he peered at his mother's door, which was closed tight, soft snoring sounding from inside. The same went for Aishun; they must have both gone to bed.

 _Good._ Quietly slipping down the stairs, making his footfalls as light as possible, Denki checked behind him one more time before slipping out the door into the night air.

His sneakers slapped on the sidewalk as he walked, but as he crossed over from pavement to grass, his footsteps became more silent and muffled, barely making a sound. As quietly as he could, Denki slowly stalked towards the girl, keeping from a small distance. Now that he was closer, Denki could make out more distinctive features.

Her eyes were the same pretty dark purple color as her hair; and somehow the moonlight managed to shine on it a kind of way that resembled a sound wave. A purple skirt with black fishnet stockings covered her legs, and a pair of black coverse boots rested on her feet. A black jacket billowing in the wind hung on her shoulders, the word _Jirou_ embroidered on it in white thread. Curiously, Denki watched as the girl, who might've been Jirou, shoved the notebook back into her pocket and started to play again.

 _"With the lights out, it's less dangerous."_  
 _"Here we are now, entertain us."_  
 _"I feel stupid, and contagious."_  
 _"Here we are now, entertain us."_  
 _"A mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,"_  
 _"Yeah, hey."_

 _"I'm worse at what I do best,"_  
 _"And for this gift I feel blessed."_  
 _"Our little group has always been,"_  
 _"And always will until the end."_

As she concluded what sounded like the first verse, Denki was almost awestruck. It was apparent now why it had seemed like she was one the radio; she was just _that good._ Her voice was warm like honey; but nowhere near sugary-sweet levels. It was also kind of...hard, was the only way to put it. Kind of like a rock star with a pinch of sugar, Denki concluded.

As fingers strummed the last chord, Denki stood up and applauded. "WOO! That was awesome! Did you write that?"

As soon as Denki popped up, clapping and cheering, the girl Jirou's head shot up, her face turning white with shock. "Jesus—!" She cried suddenly, jumping up from her spot in the grass, and Denki knew that if his mom was there, she would have chastised her—his mother was extra religious.

The color draining quickly out of her face like water from her faucet, as Denki appeared Jirou clutched her guitar like it was a weapon; holding the neck with both hands like sword. She planted her feet firmly on the ground in a wide stance, and it looked like a pair of earbuds had flown up as she stood up so quickly, except they _stayed_ there, hovering in the air threateningly.

As she held the guitar and what might have earbuds (but now Denki was starting to believe they might have been something else, like a quirk), like weapons, Denki held his hands up. _Way to scare the living daylights out of her,_ he thought to himself.

"Uh, sorry to scare you," Denki said, shooting a small smile. Jirou only responded by twisting her face into and angry frown. Denki gulped; he wasn't quite sure what those earbuds could do; but he knew never to underestimate a quirk.

"It's just, I heard you playing from my bedroom window," he said, pointing with his thumb to his house behind him. "And I thought you sounded really good, so I thought I would say hi. I'm Denki Kaminari; I just moved here. I'm guessing you're Jirou?"

As Denki said her name, the girl seemed to turn even paler, if that her possible, but then flushed red. "Wh-h-how do you know my name?" She cried, moving her earbuds dangerously closer to his face. Denki bit his lip nervously.

"I, uh...saw it on your jacket," he said, pointing to the word, and Jirou glanced at it. "This is my dad's jacket; Jirou is a family name," she said, and Denki smiled. "So you're last name is Jirou? You could have just told me that. Could I know your first name, by any chance?"

"What? No!" Jirou cried, stepping forward. "It's creepy enough you know my last name! Now go away, before I blast out your eardrums!" She threatened, and at first Denki thought, _I don't think she can play that loud,_ but then glanced at her earbuds, which were slowly inching closer and closer.

"I just wanted to say you were good, is all!" Denki cried, slowly backing away.

Jirou scowled. "Well sorry, but I don't like complete strangers just sneaking up on me like that!" She retorted, lowering her guitar to ball her hands into fists at her sides.

"Okay, okay, sorry about that. And anyways, I already told you. I'm Denki Kaminari, I live in that house over there, I just moved there—" he began, but Jirou cut him off, waving her hand in the air.

"Whatever! Look, Kuttle-bari, or whatever your name is, can you just, like, go? _Please?"_ Jirou hissed, her purple eyes narrowing into slits. Denki sighed, looking back at Jirou. It was clear he wasn't getting anywhere; everything he said just seemed to make her angrier or more annoyed.

"Okay, okay. I'll go," Denki sighed, turning around and shoving his hands in his pockets, stalking back towards his house. "I'll leave you alone."

Only later on would Jirou find out that the last thing Denki said to her that night was a lie.

* * *

 **Hey guys! This is my first semi-serious BNHA fanfic, so I hope you guys like it! If you did like it or have any thoughts, please leave a comment! I love reading through them, they make me feel good inside knowing that others liked my story enough to take the time to leave a review!**

 **Also, I just want to say that there is a chance the manga will release Denki's actual family sometime in the future, so if that does happen, just think of this as an alternate universe, which it kind of already is. Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed the story!**


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

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Four days. It had been four days.

Four days since Denki and his family had moved into the city of Musutafu, Japan. Four days since Denki had seen the girl, who was apparently called "Jirou" singing in the field and had almost gotten impaled by her earbud-earlobes. Four days since Denki had laid down in his bed, thinking about her even as he fell asleep. Looking back, she just seemed kind of...interesting. Most people would be pleased by someone complimenting them like that, but she seemed to want nothing else except for him to get away.

 _She was kind of cute though,_ Denki had thought as he had slowly fallen asleep. Then he smiled, shaking his head. He thought that about almost every girl he met; either she had a cute face, or cute legs, or cute hips, or cute _anything,_ really. He had just gotten used to thinking like that; it was almost a reflex. Still, that hadn't stopped her from being the last thing he had thought of as he had fallen asleep.

He had seen her in the field the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. The second day, he had sat in his room, conveniently flipping through one of his old Batman comics instead of unpacking, when a sound has floated in through his bedroom window. In all honesty, he had purposely left it open, hoping to hear Jirou again. The music had actually been _really_ good, like, play-it-on-the-radio good.

Sure enough, at about 10:30 at night, he had heard the same voice carrying in from the field. He didn't even have to look out the window to see if it was her or not; he knew that voice, and anyways figured no one else would go into a field just to sing. Still, he had gone anyways, and sure enough, had seen the same dark purple hair standing out against the field, her back half turned to him.

The same wooden guitar that had been there last night had sat in her hand, looking as if it belonged in her lap more than anything else. The music had started out with a few simple chords, rhythmic and calming, yet still holding a promise of being upbeat. After about 30 seconds of this, Jirou had started, singing slow.

 _"Listen to the wind blow, watch the_ _sunrise_ _."_  
 _"Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies."_

Suddenly, the beat picked up, and Jirou started to add in a few more notes, keeping the same pace. However, the different guitar chords made it sound more upbeat; more uplifting.

 _"And if you don't love me now,"_  
 _"You will never love me again."_  
 _"I can still hear you saying,"_  
 _"You would never break the chain._ ¹ _"_

Her voice was full of emotion, her whole body moving as she played, not just her lips and her fingers. She put emphasis and feeling into every word she played, leaning forward and moving around as she strummed, nodding her head, and letting her earbuds fly everywhere. Denki had almost done a double-take; it was like the girl he had met and the girl who was singing were two entirely different people. One was angry and cold; the other was loud and passionate. He could practically feel her energy from where he sat; almost like it was contagious.

And of course, the same thing had happened as last night. When Denki had gone out to say hi to her, she had practically had a heart attack. The music had come to an abrupt stop, and her message was basically "get lost before I kill you."

So, of course, the same thing had happened the next day. And the day after that. It was almost like a ritual; Denki heard her playing, he went to compliment her, she would get mad, he would leave.

"What the hell do you want?" Jirou had yelled at him on the third night he had done this, sounding exasperated after she had caught him lying low in the grass. Denki, accepting he had been caught after hoping to surprise her, had merely stood up and shrugged.

"Well, let's see," he had said, holding up his fingers to count off as he went. "I want to learn what your first name is, listen to you sing, figure out why you want me to go away so much, get through a night where you don't threaten to assault me with your earbuds—"

"Well I wouldn't have to threaten to assault you with my earbuds if you would just leave me alone," Jirou had protested, slinging her guitar strap over her shoulder so she could ball her fists at her sides. Denki could practically see the vein popping out of her forehead. Denki had just shrugged. "Alright, alright," he had said, holding up his hands as he walked away, having full intentions of returning tomorrow.

What he didn't get, though, was why she got so mad whenever she heard him singing. _If I could sing like that, I would want everyone to know. I would be like, "hey guys, look how well I can sing? Did you hear me sing yet? Wow, I can sing really well you guys, did you hear that?" It's probably best that I don't sing that well,_ Denki thought, chuckling to himself.

"What's so funny?" Aishun suddenly accused, glaring at Denki from across the living room.

 _Damn, I forgot she was even in here,_ Denki thought, almost jumping out of his skin. Quickly recovering, Denki turned around to glare at her, trying again to match the same menacing glare she gave him on a daily basis. An almond-crush pocky stick lay clasped in his hand, already half eaten, and the TV box glowed with a scene from some action movie he wasn't even paying attention to at this point.

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the small living room. Or really, if you could even really call it a living room. Denki's house had one of those rooms where the living room carpeting cut off halfway to form a hardwood floor where the kitchen started, which had irritated Aishun to no end. "It's all wrong!" She had declared when they first bought the house, which had just made Denki shake his head. Sometimes, Aishun's perfectionism made him want to hurl.

Today though, the young ten-year-old simply adjusted her glasses, scowling at Denki from across the room at the kitchen table. Denki had merely rolled his eyes, turning back to the TV. "Since when does it matter what I laugh about?" He said carelessly, finishing off his Pocky stick and taking another one from the box.

Aishun's scowl deepened. "Since you were laughing instead of walking Yuko," she retorted, flipping another page in her book.

Denki suddenly snapped to attention, turning around to face his sister. "I thought it was your turn to walk Yuko!" He cried. A few years ago, just after their dog, Haru had passed away, both Denki and Aishun had asked their mother for another dog. It had taken a lot of begging, and a PowerPoint presentation from Aishun, but a year later, both of them had soon found themselves with a small white Japanese Spitz dog, of whom they had both agreed on naming Yuko.

Usually, they both babied her to death, but when it actually came to taking care of her it was an entirely different story. Aishun's head shot up from her book again, her scowl deepening even further. " _I_ walked her _yesterday._ I _told_ you that I walk her on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and you walk her on Mondays, Wednesdays and—"

"Alright, alright, I'll get her. Just stop talking, _please,"_ Denki muttered, shoving himself off the couch. Turning off the TV and putting the box of Pocky sticks back in the cabinet, he tried to push down the small amount of joy he got from hearing Aishun's frustrated grunt from seeing that he was eating straight from the box again. But sometimes, it was surprisingly difficult _not_ to actually enjoy annoying her.

 **—**

To be honest, a lot of the time Denki actually didn't mind walking Yuko. Especially on days like this; where it was actually really nice.

Looking down, Denki smiled a bit at the small bundle of fur. When they had gone to the pound to pick a dog, Denki had picked Yuko mainly because of all the energy she had. Japanese Spitzes were typically very white and fluffy; the only way Denki could describe them was two cotton balls stuck together with a head, tail, and long legs.

As they walked, Denki's flip-flops slapped against the pavement, Yuko stopping to sniff every fire hydrant and light pole. The late afternoon sun beat down from directly above, though the clouds lazily drifting over the sky and the cool breeze helped a little bit. A small black-and-blue butterfly flitted past, surprisingly close to Denki's face, before flying off among the rows of houses. A songbird sat in a nearby tree, tweeting away some tune that only the bird itself could understand.

It was almost surreal, where it seemed like nothing can go wrong in the world and everything is just amazingly perfect, almost like in a painting or a princess storybook. For a moment, Denki laughed a little bit in spite of himself, imagining himself walking around in a pretty pink princess dress with white gloves and a tiara, where bluebirds just randomly landed on his finger.

 _"Ah yes, I am Princess Denki of Saitama Prefecture, bow in my presence,"_ he said to no one in particular in a high-pitched voice, waving his hand around that one motion that princesses always do where it looks like they're screwing in a lightbulb.

"Well have fun, _Princess Denki,"_ a sudden voice scoffed, causing Denki to stop in his tracks. He knew that voice anywhere; it was the same one he had been listening to every night. Turning his attention to the front of him, two houses down he saw a large two-story white house, a door, and three windows peeping out of the front. A black door and black shutters peered out at him, and from the porch, Jirou stood, her dark purple hair flapping in the breeze.

Suddenly Denki stopped, the hand that he was using for waving quickly flying to the back of his neck as his face split in an embarrassed smile."Well I mean...I was just walking my dog and...I didn't know you lived this close..." As Denki made an enormous mess of tripping over his words, something caught his attention. In the corner of his vision, just behind Jirou, he saw a small glint of something silver. It was tall, with a cord running out of it, and the top was colored a dark shade of green. _Is that an air tank?_ He realized.

Before he could say anything, Jirou shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Well, where else would I live to be able to get to the field every night? Anyways, have fun with all your princess-ing," She muttered, turning around. Before Denki could get in another word about her or the strange air tank attached to her, the door behind her opened and shut with a slam, leaving Denki in silence.

"Well, she sure seems like a warm and friendly person," Denki muttered to Yuko, crouching down to pet her. Yuko only gave a few short excited yaps, leaping up to place her paws on Denki's chest and cover his face in licks.

Denki laughed a little, rubbing Yuko as she did so. "I just don't get why she's so mad at me all the time," he went on. "It's not like I'm doing anything to make her mad. _I wanted to watch her sing._ Is that really so bad?"

Yuko didn't say anything, only gave a few short yaps. Denki sighed. "Not that you would know anything about girls," he said, standing up and grabbing Yuko's leash again. Yuko gave a resistant tug at first, but quickly forgot when another butterfly fluttered past, and she broke off into another barking fit.

Just as Denki started to walk again, Yuko stopped suddenly, her tail sticking straight in the air, and lost all interest in the butterfly. Instead, she turned around and started yapping wildly at something new, tugging at the leash so hard that she yanked Denki forward.

"My gosh, Yuko—" Denki cried, trying to place his feet firmly on the ground (in hindsight, it probably wasn't the best choice to wear flip-flops while walking a dog) to keep Yuko from running into the street. "What did you—"

Just then, Denki stopped when he finally saw what Yuko had started barking at. Across the street, watching from behind a white picket fence, there was a boy Denki had never seen before. That wasn't really saying something, considering he had only just moved here, but Denki felt like he would have noticed him.

Standing with his arms resting on the fence, a young boy looking about his age watched with an intrigued interest. He had surprisingly vibrant red hair, sticking up in several spikes all pointing in the same direction as if he had an entire hair gel stash in his closet, matched his piercing red eyes. His outfit came down to a simple red t-shirt with the letters D.J written in black, and gray shorts complete with red crocs.

 _What are those?!_ Denki immediately thought, but managed to keep it to himself; he wasn't sure if this guy was one of those people who would like that joke or not. Instead, Denki leaned down to scoop up Yuko, who was still barking madly, as if she had just seen a squirrel or something.

"Gosh, sorry about her," Denki said, trying to do everything he could to shut her up (which frankly, wasn't much.) "My dog just...you know, doesn't like people who don't live in my house."

The boy with the red hair (Denki was considering just calling him "red guy" to go along with his red hair, shirt, and crocs) simply waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, don't worry about it. I've had my fair share of dogs barking at me. That one just seems...extra _passionate_ about it."

Denki chuckled a bit, despite holding a dog looking like it was about to commit a homicide. "Yeah well, you know. New town, new house—wait, were you watching us?" Denki said suddenly, a thought occurring to him.

Red Guy sat up straighter, his eyebrows raising, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you know, I..." he muttered, scrambling for the right words. "Well I was just outside and I saw you, this guy come out of the Kisaragi's old place, and then I saw that you had met Jirou and..." his voice trailed off a little bit as if he was thinking about how weird that sounded.

"Gosh sorry about that; that must sound super weird," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Denki merely shrugged. "Trust me, I've seen weirder," Denki said, thinking back to some of the videos he had filmed when he was alone in a house with his cell phone.

Red Guy snickered a little, then stuck out his hand. "I'm Kirishima if you're wondering," he said.

Denki looked at his hand for a moment, then glanced at the dog trying to murder Kirishima in his arms, then back at Kirishima, wondering how he was supposed to shake his hand while simultaneously trying to stop an assassination by a dog.

Kirishima looked at Yuko, then realized and lowered his hand. "Sorry, guess you can't shake my hand," he said with a small laugh.

Denki shrugged and gave a thumbs up. "It's cool; I'm Kaminari, by the way."

Kirishima leaned on the fence again, looking over Denki's shoulder at his house. "Well, Kaminari, how long have you been here?"

"About four days," Denki said, shouldering Yuko, who was beginning to calm down a little, into one arm. Suddenly, a thought flew into his mind. "Hey, did you say you knew that girl over there?" He asked, pointing over to Jirou's house.

Kaminari looked in his direction, then nodded. "Jirou Kyoka? Oh yeah, pretty much everyone knows everyone around here. I, uh, saw that you met her," he said, and even from a few feet away Denki could see that he was trying not to laugh. _Note to self: maybe rub it in her face later that you know her first name, now,_ Denki thought.

"Yeah, she's been pretty loving recently, if you can call being threatened with a guitar very loving," Denki went on, shaking his head. Even though his senses were peaked with interest, he tried his best to make it seem like he could care less.

Kirishima just smiled, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's Jirou—she once threatened to stab me to death with a fork." As he said so, Kirishima laughed a little bit, as if he were remembering the memory fondly. "We've met each other a few times, though that's mostly because we live so close to each other. I feel like if she could, she would just sit in her house all day. Maybe talk to Yaoyorozu and Hagakure."

"Ah, okay," Denki replied as if he knew who Yaoyorozu and Hagakure were. "I, uh, I actually just saw her with an air tank for some reason—do you know what that's all about?"

Suddenly, it was as if Denki had just asked about a war. Kirishima's smile dropped as soon as the words passed his lips, and for a moment he just stared at Denki. "You don't know?" He said as if he were surprised.

Denki only shrugged. "Afraid not," he went on, though now he had to admit, Kirishima's reaction to it had peaked his interest even further than it already was.

Kirishima just exhaled, leaning on the fence again. "Living so close to her for four days in a town this size, I would have thought _someone_ would have told you by now if you had met her."

Denki almost opened his mouth to tell him about how he had actually seen her in the field, but then he stopped. From the way Kirishima had talked about her, it had become obvious that the only people Jirou actually liked were two people Denki didn't even know, Yaoyorozu and Hagakure. If she didn't like him, a person she had only known for four days to see her in the field, chances are she didn't want this kid whom she had threatened to stab with a fork to see her.

 _It's a shame though, since she really does have a pretty voice,_ Denki thought, but managed to keep that to himself. Instead, he looked at Kirishima with sheer curiosity, his eyes wide. "Guess I'm still in the dark, then. Care to enlighten me?" Denki suggested, patting Yuko's head.

Kirishima glanced from the left to the right, as if someone might be listening, then leaned in closer. "You know Jirou has lung cancer."

It was as if someone had just dropped a ball on Denki. For a moment he just stood there, looking at Kirishima, his eyes wide. If he had a voice, it had chosen right then to make itself hidden, causing Denki to just stand there, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he thought of something to say, opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.

He had met people who had disabilities. Back in Saitama Prefecture, there had been this one girl who had this thing called cerebral palsy where she couldn't move her body right, and she always had a teacher aid with her or something. There of course had been more people like that, but this was different, for some reason, For one, he had never actually interacted with those people. That wasn't to say he didn't like them or thought less of them, it just had never crossed his mind to. They had always been in the background while he had been off laughing loudly with his friends.

This was different for two reasons. For one, cancer wasn't like a disability, though in Denki's mind it seemed pretty darn close. They had body issues that made them have different limitations than most other people, but Jirou most likely had a life before cancer where she had probably been able to live like a normal person. And second of all, he had _met_ her. And now that he knew she had cancer, he wasn't quite sure how to respond.

After a few moment, Kirishima just shrugged. "Yeah, a lot of people have that reaction. But don't worry about it, and try not to bring it up, okay? She _hates_ when people do that."

Denki, whose voice had finally come back, managed a nod. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he said, looking back at her house, where the door remained stubbornly closed. However, as he looked over, he thought he saw a flash of purple hair, which quickly disappeared as the curtain moved. _Was she watching us?_ He thought, but before he could say anything, Kirishima spoke again.

"Hey, do you like, wanna come inside or something?" Kirishima suggested. Denki glanced down at Yuko, who looked like she was on the verge of breaking free and attacking Kirishima anyways. "Uh...maybe not now," he said with a small chuckle.

Kirishima looked at Yuko, then waved his hand. "Oh, cool, cool," he said, but before he could say anything else, there was a loud yell from inside. "KIRISHIMA!"

Suddenly, the door to Kirishima's house swung open with a loud bang, causing Denki to jump and even shutting up Yuko for a moment. Kirishima just sighed, shaking his head. "Bakugo, you're scaring the neighbors—" Kirishima began, but he didn't get to finish.

"QUIET YOU!" The boy, who was apparently called Bakugo, yelled back. He stood in the doorway, his hand placed firmly on the door, and Denki swore that if this was a cartoon, there would be steam pouring from Bakugo's ears right now.

The man appeared to be about his height, with red eyes and spike hair like Kirishima, but unlike Kirishima his hair was ash blonde and stuck out in all directions like a sea urchin, rather than all the spikes being straight up. His face was twisted into an angry frown as he stamped towards the two of them, his eyes catching on Denki as he went.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, looking Denki up and down. _Jeez, what's his problem?_ Denki thought, pressing his lips together. He hadn't even known the guy a full minute, and already he was out here, yelling at him and asking him "who the hell he was."

"Uh, I'm Kaminari," Denki said, holding out his hand now that Yuko had calmed down a bit. Bakugo didn't shake it.

Pulling his hand back in, Denki sighed and pointed to his house. "Uh, I just moved in there, and Kirishima just wanted to say hi," he said, and Kirishima looked at Bakugo, shrugging as if to say, _see?_

Bakugo looked at Kirishima again, still visibly angry. "Well YOU SAID you were going to help plan, and WHAT DO YOU DO? COME OUT HERE AND STAND HERE JUST TALKING WITH EVERYONE YOU SEE!" Bakugo screamed, quickly escalating to loud levels of talking again. "I'M NOT JUST GONNA BE LEFT INSIDE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF! DO YOU WANT MY HELP OR NOT?!"

"No, I do, I do," Kirishima assured, moving his hands in a _calm down_ motion. Denki, however, was still left in the dark. "Planning what?" He asked, unaware of if it was nosy or not.

"Oh, well school just got out here, so we were just planning this one get-out-of-school celebration thing," Kirishima said, as if it weren't a big deal.

"Uh, YOU were the one planning it. I just came here to help so you would get off my back about it!" Bakugo roared, and for a moment there was a second where Denki wasn't even one-hundred percent sure of if they were even friends or not.

Whichever one it was, Kirishima ignored him, turning back to look at Denki. "Hey, you could come too if you want. I mean, I know you didn't come to our school, but maybe you could meet some new people or something."

Denki's heart said yes before his mouth even had a chance to. Parties, celebrations, or anything along those lines had always been where Denki had always felt most at home when he wasn't at home. They always seemed to hold those moments where he could let loose all the nervous energy he was constantly bottling up, and just be crazy for once.

"I might show up," was what came out instead though. He didn't want to seem too eager or desperate. Kirishima gave a thumbs up. "Cool, dude! Hope to see you there!" He called, and began to walk back towards the house, the guy called Bakugo following after.

For a moment after the door closed, Denki stood there, smiling. Maybe he would make some friends here after all. As he turned around to continue his walk with Yuko, however, he passed Jirou's house, which now showed no signs of anyone watching him.

The thought of Jirou flew into his mind again. He had no idea that he had lung cancer, and he had no idea how to react to that.

But of course, that didn't stop him from seeing her again that same night.

* * *

¹Song used is "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

* * *

"Okay, you know all the rules?"

"Yes, mom."

"Don't let anyone inside the house if the doorbell rings, don't leave the house, the first aid kit is—"

"In the hall closet; third shelf. Yeah, yeah, I know." Denki leaned forward, grabbing his mom's head and kissing her on the forehead. At 5'6, he towered over his 4'10 mother, which made it much easier to kiss her like that.

"You know you don't have to worry. You've left us home alone before," Denki commented, grabbing his mom's hands and looking her in the eyes. Meeting her son's gaze, Mrs. Kaminari sighed, grabbing his own face.

"I know, I know—but I'm a _mom._ It's my job to worry," she said, grabbing his cheeks. Denki laughed a little bit, shoving his mom away. At this point, he was used to his mom's overprotective nature. She really didn't have any reason to worry: Musutafu was one of the safest cities in Japan according to her research beforehand, and anyway it wasn't like he or Aishun was going to go and jump off a bridge the second she left them alone.

Still, every time she left to go to work or any place like that, she always ran through the same checklist just to make sure, even though Denki had been babysitting Aishun for, what, six years now? Even so, his mom couldn't help it, but Denki had never really minded.

All being said, Denki's mom was a fairly pretty woman. She had long blonde hair like Denki's, but without any black, almost looking like rods of gold. Her eyes were a bright electric blue like they were constantly crackling with energy, never resting for even a moment. They were always working, constantly taking in everything around her, like it was just a reflex to always be working.

Years of having two kids and working non-stop had given her prominent wrinkle lines, which she usually wasn't ashamed of. "They show that I work hard; why would I hide that?" She had once said to a woman at the beauty salon she used to go to in Saitama Prefecture who had commented on them.

"Aishun, you know the rules—listen to your brother, alright?" Denki's mom said, leaning down to rub Yuko's head as she grabbed her purse off the hook.

Aishun barely responded, only gave a small grunt of recognition. She was barely paying attention to either of them, her nose buried deep in some book the size of a brick as she sank deep into the couch cushion.

Denki's mom shook her head, then looked back and Denki and stood on her tip-toes to kiss his forehead, though even so Denki had to bend down a little.

Briskly walking to the foyer, Mrs. Kaminari swung open the door and letting a blast of heat into the air-conditioned house. "There's some leftover miso in the fridge if you get hungry! Call me if anything is wrong" She added quickly, and Denki shook his head, still smiling.  
"You're gonna be late," he reminded her, sticking his hands in his pockets. As if the thought had just occurred to her, Mrs. Kaminari jumped a little bit, shoving her purse strap onto her shoulder.

"Right, right. I'll be back around 5-ish!" She confirmed, finally shutting the door. As she left, Denki glanced over at Aishun, who was still nose deep in her book. It was possible she would be dead to the world for at least another few hours.

For reasons Denki didn't understand, it always came as a surprise when someone he knew found out that he actually liked to read. His GPA had never exactly been the "best", but reading had been the one thing that he had actually been good at. He could name some of the greatest authors in all of literature off the top of his head, and he actually had a large vocabulary. It was just...well, everything else academic he struggled with.

Reading and learning weren't the same things. People always talked about them like they went hand-in-hand, but reading was just something Denki did for fun. He didn't sit down and flip through huge textbooks about science and math like Aishun, but rather more stories like Huckleberry Finn and everything like that. Reading was the only thing that actually stuck. Everything else, like numbers or classical Japanese or anything like that, just sunk to the bottom of his brain like rocks.

Everytime Denki used a big word or mentioned some unknown author that did something important, everyone always got wide-eyed and surprised like they couldn't believe _he_ had said it, which Denki never really understood.

"So, do you plan to interact with anyone today?" Denki asked, placing his hands on the back of the couch. Aishun only rolled her eyes, as if she was already annoyed with him. Reluctantly, she placed down her book in her lap, which Denki now saw was something about astrophysics—whatever that was.

"Do you? We're not supposed to leave the house while mom's gone, remember?" She huffed, as if the question was so stupid she wasn't even sure why she bothered answering. Denki glared down at his sister; even though he was six years older than her, she always acted like she was some older diva.

"Jeez, forget I asked," he muttered, turning on his heel and pounding up the stairs. While Aishun planned to just waste her day away reading about something called able-living or whatever, Denki had his own plans for the day: eating Pocky sticks and people watching. Granted, he couldn't actually leave the front yard to do it, but his street was good enough. Plus, if he happened to see some girls while doing it, that was fine too...

Stepping into this room, he gazed around at the bedroom now filled with furniture after his mom had finally made him reluctantly unpack. A large twin bed sat in the corner, a bright yellow bedsheet with black lightning bolt patterns decorating the surface. Beside his window, a large wooden desk sat, a desktop computer and gold and black swivel chair accompanying it.

On the other side of his window, a large dresser sat, a few random stickers that he had collected over the years dotting the surface. On top of the dresser, it was a little more disorganized—an assorted mess of random items, from Batman figurines to a small accordion. A jar of pens and pencils sat, and above his window, there was a long wooden board with silver hooks, each hook holding a different item. One had a small pair of headphones, while another had a scarf, and so on.

There were at least two skateboards, with one leaning against his dresser and another hanging on the wall acting as a shelf. A large yellow canvas with a big black "K" for Kaminari hung right over his bed, which Denki specifically remembered arguing with his mom over.

While she had wanted the more traditional version, with the whole word Kaminari painted like かみな, Denki had wanted a more modern version. It seemed like that was the one thing he and his mom could never agree on. She was more into traditional values, such as home cooking every meal and hanging pictures with the traditional Japanese rendering, such as かみな all over the house.

Denki, for whatever reason, had never felt that way about anything. While his mom had always been big on home-cooked meals, Denki had liked things like hamburgers and Pocky sticks, all to his mom's horror. She always said they were "synthetic flavoring" or something like that, and weren't an "actual meal". He had been lucky to be able to keep one box in the kitchen.

Which was why he had to keep an entire stash of Pocky sticks under his bed.

Back in Saitama, the closest place to get Pocky sticks had been at a drug store twenty minutes away, which was why he was only able to get them at parties. When he had discovered a store five minutes from here that had an entire shelf of Pocky sticks, it was almost like his heart had stopped for a moment. He had spent almost all his money on almost all the flavors they had, but it was worth it.

Digging under the bed, Denki rummaged around through the boxes of sticks, sticking his head to the floor so that he could see underneath. After finally deciding on a box of Trinity Orange Peel, Denki quickly glanced at the door to make sure Aishun wasn't there, then shoved them into his jacket pocket. He knew that Pocky sticks were the one thing she wouldn't rat on him about; she loved them almost as much as he did. Only thing is, if she discovered he had an entire stash, she would probably make him give up half of it just to keep her quiet. It was better to just make sure she didn't know altogether.

Walking briskly through the halls, Denki quickly brushed past Aishun, making a getaway for the backdoor. The morning air felt good on his face, at that moment when the cold of nighttime had subsided but it wasn't quite boiling hot yet. Although it was only about 8:00 A.M, the sky was already a bright blue, white patches of clouds drifting across it lazily. The field where Jirou had again been playing last night stretched out before him, seemingly endless. The scene had gone the same as always: Denki had gone down to see her, and she had shooed him off.

Still, Denki refused to let that get him down. He had come outside because he liked the cool air, and if he happened to see any cute girls, that was fine too...

Making a beeline for the front of the house, Denki watched as the field behind the block stopped abruptly as houses and a long street appeared. Climbing the porch steps, Denki settled himself in the porch swing, using his fingernails to crack the cardboard on the box and pop it open. The smell of a fresh box of Pocky opened washed over him, and Denki smiled as he took a stick out of the box, biting into it with a loud crunch.

Craning his neck, Denki gazed across the street, hoping to see some sign of Kirishima, but to his disappointment, the redhead's lawn stayed quiet as ever. The only sound on the block right now was the occasional tweeting of birds, and...footsteps?

Looking over, Denki almost felt his heart and his face beam as he saw what just rounded the corner. Two girls, each in a jogging uniform, turned onto his street, each of them talking to each other. One of them seemed to be fairly tall and doing most of the talking, her messy orange hair tied into a side ponytail. She wore a black jogging jacket, with the name _Kendo_ displayed on the back in big block letters. Her green eyes gleamed as she talked to the other girl, who mostly seemed to be smiling and nodding quietly.

The other girl's hair was green, reminding Denki of vines as they hung loosely at her sides rather than tied up. Her skin was fairly pale, and her eyes were so dark they almost looked black. _They're kinda cute, especially the green one,_ Denki thought, adjusting his shirt. Quickly checking to make sure there were no crumbs on him, Denki started running through the list of pickup lines he had picked up after skimming through the internet several times.

At first, he had thought of using them on Jirou, but he had never gotten the chance to. These girls looked good enough though. "Hey!" Denki called as their feet pounded past. Hearing his voice, they stopped just in front of his driveway. For a moment, the orange one who was apparently Kendo, ruffled her eyebrows together and looked around to see if anyone else was there, then looked back at him, obviously confused.

"Is your dad a cop? Cause it's illegal to look that good," Denki whistled, winking as he flashed a bright smile. He hoped the girls would maybe smile or even start giggling but instead it had the opposite effect.

The girl whose hair reminded Denki of vines furrowed her eyebrows together, obviously confused, while the one called Kendo just looked annoyed. She whispered something to the vine girl, who only shook her head as the two started to jog away.

"Wait!" Denki suddenly called, leaping to his feet. "Are you a parking ticket? Cause you've got fine written all over—"

"Screw off," Kendo interrupted, flashing a rude hand gesture as she and Vine Girl turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

For a moment, Denki stood there, his hands clasping the porch railing as his brain slowly registered what had happened. When it finally came to him, he released a huff, collapsing down on the porch swing again. He didn't know why this kept happening; it always seemed like girls would fall for that stuff to him.

 _Well, maybe Jirou wouldn't_ , Denki thought to himself, biting his lip at the thought of her. For some reason, she didn't seem like the type to laugh at anything really. The few times he had actually seen her up close she was always mad at him, but from the times he had seen her from his window, her face always looked kind of neutral, like she didn't care either way. Something told him she wouldn't exactly appreciate his pickup lines.

Just as Denki was preparing to go back inside, he noticed a bit of movement on the corner where the two girls had just disappeared. At first he ignored it, thinking it was a car, but as it continued to drive on, he noticed that it _didn't end._ As it turned, Denki realized the sleek black car, rather than ending after a few feet like a normal car, just kept going. It wasn't until the whole thing had pulled onto his street that he realized it was a limousine, and it was pulling up to Jirou's house.

Now that he was looking, Denki saw Jirou's familiar petite form and dark purple hair sitting in the porch chair, her bangs hanging over her eyes. _Did she see me talking to those girls?_ He wondered for a moment, and cringed slightly at the thought. He was kind of hoping no one had seen that.

Now curious, Denki furrowed his eyebrows together, watching as an old man with a gray broom mustache and a tuxedo crawled out, walking up her front steps and rapping on the door. After a few moments, the door then swung open, and another girl Denki didn't recognize stepped out. She had long black hair tied up into a spiky side ponytail, and black eyes to match. She wore a simple red sweater and long leggings, and had a white duffel bag slung over her shoulder, like the kind you took to sleepovers.

She said a few words to the old man, who nodded and took her duffel bag, walking to the limo and placing it inside. Jirou soon followed out the door soon after, saying a few words to the girl. _Wait, is she hugging her?_ Denki thought as Jirou wrapped her arms around the girl. Jirou didn't seem like the hugging type at any point that Denki had met her; even Kirishima had said that she had tried to stab him with a fork.

Then again, he had also said the two people Jirou actually liked were some guys named Yaoyorozu and Hagakure. But now that he was actually seeing Jirou hugging someone, he was starting to think that one of them might be a girl rather than a guy. Whether it was Yaoyorozu or Hakakure Denki didn't know, but just standing here he could see that she was pretty friendly with them. Plus, whoever they were, they were rich as heck.

"Hey Jirou; who's you friend?" Denki called, cupping his hands over his mouth. He didn't take a moment to think about it; the words just slipped past his lips. Despite the overwhelming evidence that every time Denki spoke to her she seemed to get pissed, Denki called out to her anyways, not thinking about the results.

Startled, Jirou jumped a bit, then turned towards his house. Instantly, her expression turned sour as she scowled, Yaoyorozu or Hagakure (Denki still wasn't sure) furrowing her eyebrows together as she said something to her. Jirou muttered something back, and apparently whatever she said made the girl shut up.

Jirou didn't say anything to Denki, only held up the same gesture that the other girl, Kendo, had held up to him. With a huff, Jirou muttered one last goodbye to the girl, then stomped into her house, slamming the door shut. For a moment, her friend stood there, looking at the door, then at Denki. He wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to him or not, but before she got the chance, the guy with the mustache popped his head out of the front window.

"Mistress Momo? I believe it is time for us to depart," he said with a fancy accent that reminded Denki of those old fancy movies his mom and Aishun liked to watch all the time. The girl, who was called Momo, looked back at Denki one last time, then nodded hesitantly to the man and walked over to the limo, pulling open the door and climbing inside.

The limousine sped away, but as it did, Denki saw Momo watching him curiously through her window. _I wonder if she talked about me,_ Denki wondered, the thought suddenly popping into his head. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. For one, he had just assumed that Jirou just thought of him as "that annoying guy that always bothers me", and not something that she would talk about to her friends. On the other hand, it probably wasn't anything good, considering the few quality of the few interactions he had with her.

Still, weirdly enough, that didn't sit right with Denki. He knew he shouldn't care; he had been shut down by more girls then he could bother to remember over the last few years. It was just that Jirou seemed...different. It wasn't just him that she hated; it was like she hated _everyone_ except for a few select people. She tended to give everyone the cold shoulder, but when she was alone at night she seemed a completely different person.

When she sang, her voice was full of emotion and heart. In fact, Denki was sure he had actually seen her _smile_ one or two times, but he wasn't 100% sure on that. He wasn't sure he had met any girl, or rather _anyone_ who was that passionate about anything, especially not himself, he realized.

There were few, if any, things that Denki could remember sticking to. It just seemed like he gave up on anything if it got old or too hard. He had always been more into the action scene, going to parties and laughing at memes on his phone rather than actually dedicating himself to anything. Of course he could remember people who had dedicated themselves to something, but no one seemed as passionate about it as Jirou. She almost seemed like a challenge, now that he thought about it.

And for some reason, Denki wanted nothing more than to win this challenge.


End file.
